We Started Nothing
by TerryHennings
Summary: This is the story of Randy Orton & John Cena. Follow their long and difficult journey from a place of conformity, emptiness and denial, to an eternal resting place of a pure and honest love they didn't know existed.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: This story contains profanity & slash.**

**A/N: In addition to this fic being my first, I wanted to dedicate this story to Jessica aka Subseeker (aka the reason I made this account in the first place). Long story short, her storytelling has inspired me to get my gears going and give this "writing" thing a try. I **_**highly**_** suggest you check out some of her work!**

**Chapter 1**

"Oh, fuck off already!"

"I'll fuck off once you realize just how much of a god damn douche bag you are!"

I was furious. I couldn't believe it. How could he be so insensitive? And here he was, enough audacity to justify his behavior. Yep. Douche bag seemed fitting.

"Ah alright, so _I'm_ the douche bag? You really _are_ delusional, aren't you Cena?" Randy yelled back. "Hey! Boy! Look at me when I talk to you!"

Boy? Who the hell did this guy think he was? Turning back around to lock eyes, I yelled back, "And just who do you think you are, talking to me like that?"

Security was already having a difficult enough time escorting us out of the arena. Various superstars and divas were scattered around the halls watching everything unfold. Too many witnesses. What a shame - I was really looking forward to putting Orton in the ICU.

"Oh please!" Randy replied. "Do us all a favor and quit the obnoxious nice-guy act! You think your life is so fucking great, but it really isn't! It's a mess! A fucking mess!"

I couldn't be bothered anymore. Rolling my eyes, I turned around and opened the parking lot door. Security let me go and I bolted for my rental. I started the engine and from the corner of my eye, I could see Randy enter his rental as well. Muttering a few profanities under my breath, I reversed my car and got the hell out of that lot.

On the drive back to the hotel, my mind was racing. I was furious, but at the same time I couldn't help but wonder why Randy snapped the way he did. We both knew each other since we both started back in OVW over a decade ago. We were never really "good friends" but throughout our time in the company we were always civil with each other. At the very least we had a good amount of mutual respect.

I've seen Randy acting out in the past, but tonight was different. His eyes. Those icy blues looked so sharp and menacing. The passion he injected into the words he said was intense. Now I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that Randy Orton will go down in history as one of the most notorious hotheads. Sure, he's been known to have a scuffle here and there, attend an anger-management class or two, and have a few one-night stands over the course of 24 hours, but over the past couple of years Randy has shown a tremendous amount of growth as a human being. Everyone seemed to be convinced that Randy's epiphany was a result of the birth of his daughter, and I had to agree wholeheartedly. Being a father must have really opened his eyes, melted his ignorance, and for the first time in his life made him fully aware of just how childish he's always been. Tonight was the first time in years I've seen him act out. And as much as I wanted to snap his neck at this very moment, I couldn't help but wonder what changed.

After checking in, I made my way towards the elevators. Duffle bag in hand, I smashed the elevator button a good 7-10 times as I bit my bottom lip. I couldn't take it anymore. All I wanted to do was head straight to bed. I wasn't tired, but there was nothing else I wanted to do but to put myself into a deep sleep and forget tonight ever happened. I heard a small ding and made my way inside. Reaching over to press for my floor, the door started to close when from the corner of my eye I could see Randy rush for the doors.

"Hold the fucking doors! I'm not done with you yet, you son of a..."

Ding.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I let out a weary but soft sigh as my eyes struggled to open. Sunlight filled my room, and I couldn't help but groan and wipe the sleep off my face. I reached over for my phone to check the time, when I realized I didn't have to do a Smackdown taping tonight. And thank god. After last night's craziness, I couldn't be bothered to see Randy tonight, or anyone else for that matter.

Randy Orton. Jeez, what a dick. I mean really, what the hell is up with that guy? Fortunately all remaining anger managed to magically expel itself from my body as I enjoyed a good night's rest, but I still couldn't get over the look on his face. Now don't get me wrong, I was glad the elevator doors shut when they did. The timing was immaculate to say the least. I was exhausted, and I just didn't have it in me to continue our heated exchange. But as much as I was relieved to be free from his bullshit, a part of me wanted to hear him out. Part of me wanted an explanation, but the other part knew better. Randy Orton opening himself up to me? Taking the time to _explain_ his frustrations and motives behind last night's scuffle? In a calm, and logical manner? Ha. I highly doubt he'd do anything of the sort. Not by a mile. Hell, he'd just start blaming me and we'd get into yet another altercation.

Yup, Miss Cleo would be so proud of me.

I turned over and tried to fall back to sleep. Not even 5 minutes later, my phone started to vibrate and "Cherry Pie" by Warrant started blaring. You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me.

"NIKKI B."

I pity the poor soul who has to live a life without caller ID. Groaning, I pulled the sheets over my head and decided then and there that my beauty sleep trumped everything and everyone at this very moment - including my girlfriend. I'll wake up in a few hours and ring her back, no problemo. After the chorus repeated itself for a second time, the ringing finally came to an end. Muttering a soft "thank fuck", I turned over to get more comfortable and my eyes slowly fell.

"SHEEEE'S MAHHHHH CHERRY PAHHH, COOL DRINK OF WATER SUCH A SWEET SUHPRISE, TASTES SO GOOD MAKE A GROWN MAN CRY..."

"Oh for _fucks_ sake!" I yelled. Picking up the phone, I quickly composed myself. "Yeah?"

"Babe! Oh my god _please_ tell me you aren't doing Smackdown tonight?"

I sighed. "What's going on babe?"

"Omg okay listen!"

Another soft sigh escaped my lips.

"Remember the new Total Divas show we're taping? Well we're gonna be flying out to Florida later this afternoon." Nikki continued, "We have to tape a few segments this evening and tomorrow afternoon we have to do some promo work down at Full Sail. I also have to drag these two new diva wannabes around and introduce them to the girls down at NXT and have them formally meet Sara before they start their training, blah blah blah blah blah. Anyway, you _have_ to come!"

"Ehh, who's coming?"

"Umm well it's gonna be me, Brie, Nattie, Cam, Naomi... ummm... oh, and of course those two new rookie divas that can't wrestle out of a fucking paper bag are coming as well, and ummm..."

Nikki could sound so vapid sometimes.

"TJ's gonna be there because of Nattie. Umm, oh and I think Sheamus is flying down there with us too because he really wants to meet that new irish diva they signed a few months ago. Lately he's been praising her on Twitter for some bizarre reason, I mean... she hasn't even wrestled a fucking match yet. I forgot her name but she's training with the rest of the girls down there. Ummmm let's see..."

Did I mention she sounded so vapid sometimes?

"Since it's gonna be a slow week after tonight, a few other guys are gonna fly down there too since apparently they're gonna call up a few of the NXT guys to the main roster over the next month or so. Management wants them to meet and stuff, do a little bit of promo and press, yadda yadda yadda. So yeah... there's that too."

Rubbing my eyes, I summoned my inner Fletcher Reede and replied, "Babe, I don't know. I have to go home and check on a few..."

"_Pleeeaaaaasssseeeee _babe?" Nikki whined. "For _meeeeee_?"

* * *

"And exactly _how_ do you know it's gonna be renewed for another season?" I rolled my eyes and laughed.

"Ohhh myyyyyyy goddddddd, babe we're on the same network as the friggin' Kardashians! Are you fucking serious? You know what, look it up and _then_ come talk to me." Rolling her eyes, Nikki reached down to grab her purse and pulled out her iPod. "So much for having a supportive boyfriend," she joked, huffing as she untangled her headphones.

Reaching deep down into my bag of tricks, I pulled out one of the most convincing puppy-dog faces I could find. "I'll take back what I said if you trade with me?"

"Nope, window seat is always mine. You should know better," Nikki replied nonchalantly as she placed the headphones in her ears, lay by the side, and closed her eyes. Chuckling, I leaned further back into my chair. This was going to be a long flight.

I looked around and immediately spotted TJ sitting adjacent to me, by my aisle, with his fiancée Natalya to his left.

"Psst! Eyyy, TJ!"

He looked over and gave me a warm smile, "Hey, what's up man?"

"I thought Sheamus was coming? I need to go over a few things for our 6-man tag for next week's Raw."

Shaking his head he replied, "Nah man, he has Smackdown tonight, so he'll be on a later flight with Cardona, Orton, and a few other guys. I'm pretty sure the same goes for Nick, and AJ. Hey man, this entire trip is absolute bullshit. I mean, who the hell..."

Orton? You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me.

"...and I mean even Nattie's a bit pissed, ya' know?" Nattie punched his arm. TJ feigned an "oww" and continued, "Hey! Don't act like you aren't! You were supposed to be involved in the AJ/Kaitlyn storyline but instead you signed up for that lame-ass show and now..."

Am I being Punk'd? Seriously? This is just ridiculous. Not only do I have to be dragged around by a thirsty-as-hell Nikki Bella and put on a mega-watt smile for her and that damn Barbie-doll show, but now I have to do the same press events and be in the same hotel as that psycho kid from the creepy 'Omen' movie. Fucking fantastic.

"...but hey, at least you get paid for your services on the show, right? How much do they give you for appearances, by the way? You never told me, I mean I'm thinking in the..."

Natalya narrowed her eyes, punched his left arm yet again, and silently hissed. "TJ..."

"Alright, alright! I'm sorry!"

* * *

A good 40 minutes later and I still had my sleeping arm around an even sleepier Nikki Bella, as my mind continued to wander about. How the hell am I going to deal with an inevitable run-in with Orton once we hit Florida? Wait... why am I even taking the time to plan this out? Alright alright, so he may _look_ intimidating at times, but that's something I've become desensitized to over the past decade or so. Great, I'm rambling again. I need some fucking Xanax.

"Babe, are we here yet?"

I turned to my right to see a still very sleepy Nikki rubbing her eyes as she slowly stretched her upper body. Taking her earbuds off, she looked at me with half-closed lids and asked "Are you hard of hearing?"

Chuckling, I slowly pulled my arm back and replied, "Well, I think we have another 30 minutes to go babe. Go back to sleep".

Scrolling through her iPod, she put one of her earbuds back on and leaned against the window, "Nah, whatever. 30 minutes isn't that long."

"Alright then, well I'll be back in a bit. I need to take a piss real quick."

Snickering, Nikki rolled her eyes and muttered a "so gross" as she put her other earbud in and continued scrolling through her music library.

I stood up and stretched for a good minute before I turned around to head to the bathroom. On my way to the back of the plane I groaned inwardly and stopped in my tracks as I noticed something on the bottom of my shoe. Bending over, I inspected the piece of gum stuck to the sole of my Nike's.

"Great," I quietly grumbled.

I slowly pulled myself up and before I could continue, my eyes met a pair of hard, unforgiving, icy blue orbs.

Unable to move, all I could do at that very instant was meet his gaze and swallow hard.

The way he was sitting. The way he looked at me. For a slight millisecond, it looked like he was in some sort of a catatonic state. His gaze was so hard. So cold. So merciless. So... miserable?

At this point, my mind was racing and I couldn't come up with anything to say or do. After what seemed like eternity, by the power of some sort of black witch-type magic shit, I looked down at the floor to avert his gaze and continued to walk down the aisle.

I managed to walk past him, finally got to the door and got the hell inside. Locking it, I stared at a spot in the mirror with my hands firmly on the sink. Why is he acting so fucking creepy? Fuck, why am I like this? Wait... has he been watching me this entire time?! _What the fuck._

After a minute of nothing but nonsensical over thinking, I took my piss, washed my hands and splashed a bit of cold water on my face.

Okay, that's it. This is fucking ridiculous. Randy Orton is _not_ Samara from 'The Ring', nor is he Freddy fucking Krueger. This is the guy I went to OVW with. This is the guy I've worked with for over a decade. This is Randy Orton. A fucking douche bag. A douche bag who has somehow morphed back into his 24 year old hotheaded self. Oh, and he's also managed to find a dealer to sell him a few bottles of crazy pills. Yup, that's about it.

I ran my hands through my hair and opened the door. Within an instant, someone pushed it back towards me and shoved me against the sink.

Reality quickly settling in, I tried to free myself from his hold, but Randy viciously shoved me back. Quickly locking the door behind him with his free hand, he then proceeded to swiftly force his entire upper body against mine as his hands shot up to grab my shirt by the collar.

Our lips were merely inches away. I could feel the raw heat emanating from his body. I could feel his breath on my lips. I could _smell_ his breath running through my nostrils. I could smell his cologne. I could smell something else – something uniquely Randy. I could feel his heartbeat rapidly thudding against my chest. At this point we were both still panting and I tried my absolute best not to quiver or show any signs of weakness, but my body seemed to be at a total disconnect from my mind. Never releasing his tight hold on my shirt, he clenched his jaw tighter as his eyes pierced right through mine. I didn't quite know what was going on; this entire situation felt so surreal and so foreign.

After a minute I finally started to break down. I was blinking faster. Sweat was dripping faster. My jaw started twitching faster. I continued my weak and pathetic attempt at summoning any and all remaining strength I had inside to keep up with him.

I wasn't _scared_ of him. I wasn't _angry_ with him. I was trying to identify the emotion that was rushing through my body, but I just couldn't. Absolutely _nobody_ has ever made me feel the way Randy was making me feel at this very moment in time. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't put my finger on what was going on. It was almost as if his presence in this particular state had some sort of control over me, and despite my best efforts it was making my body respond all on its own. Fuck. I just couldn't understand. I couldn't explain. Maybe this is what it feels like when people say they're in a twilight zone.

"I swear to god, Cena..." His voice was eerily quiet, calm and thick.

His words were speeding through my brain and I was piecing them together as quickly as I could. Still quivering, I took a deep breath and replied, "Swear to god, _what_?" Barely above a whisper, I did my best to push the words out of my lips in a slow, calm, composed manner; equally as thick.

"Swear to god, _what_, Randy? What is it you fucking _want_ from me?"

His cold gaze never leaving mine, I heard him swallow hard.

"_Fucking tell me._"

My voice started to break and my eyes were close to watering.

He further tightened his grip on my shirt as our stare-off continued, and just when I thought it would never end, he let go.

His features slowly softened, and his harsh gaze melted as his jaw unclenched. He took another shaky, but deep breath and his breathing slowed. Still gazing at me with icy blue eyes, he looked like he wanted to say something. After a few quick blinks, he bit his bottom lip and finally opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

It was barely audible. His tone was below a whisper, but my mind processed those two words as if they were being yelled from a mountaintop.

With that, he unlocked the door and left.


End file.
